


New York, New York

by Len0306a



Series: The ‘True’ Alpha ‘Verse [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 22:36:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13645839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Len0306a/pseuds/Len0306a
Summary: Everyone's okay, and getting better. Actually, they're almost there.





	New York, New York

**Author's Note:**

> ok so I went to a birthday party with my friends and I was exhausted afterwards and collapsed. Because I only had my phone I couldn't upload this story. 
> 
> To continue, I keep fucking my characters up. Injuring them too much and bringing angst since I feel angsty. So I wrote this to get back in the groove and remind you this series is still going strong.

Stiles watched Erica shimmy in the kitchen, Frank Sinatra blaring on the stereo. She was dancing with Boyd, who wore a small smile and dipped her as far back as she could bend. Which was pretty fucking far. Peter was watching from the living room, emailing old packs that the Hales used have alliances. He was wearing dad glasses and an oversized cardigan and boxers. 

 

Isaac sat nearby, wearing Stiles’ shirt like a dress, playing video games on his phone. Derek was sitting in the armchair in the corner, tapping his finger along to the song. Stiles himself was sitting on the kitchen island, beer in hand, making sparks dance around the kitchen. Erica was excited to play with them, grabbing the sparks and flicking them across the room. They always floated back to her, causing her to cackle in delight. They changed colors for everyone they touched. A bright yellow mixed with pink for Erica, blue and green for Boyd, pastel pink and blue for Isaac, a dark blue and light pink for Derek, and crimson and dark green for Peter. 

 

They all separated to each of the pack members, dancing around them to the beat of the music. Stiles hummed along to the song, slowly growing more confident and singing. “Start spreading the news, I’m leaving today. I wanna be a part of it, New York, New York. These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray, right through the very heart of it, New York, New York.” Erica joined in, pulling Stiles into a salsa-waltz combo. 

 

Boyd let out a deep chuckle, pulling Isaac from his game, forcing him to dance. Everyone laughed, dancing out of the beat with ridiculous moves. Peter smiled at them, a small, fond smile, that only the pack has ever seen. Everyone smiled back, Stiles removing himself from Erica to dance with Peter. Boyd and Erica collided, twirling each other around the room. Derek and Isaac were slowly getting the hang of dancing, swaying with adorable, awkward twirls. Stiles pulled Peter around the house, dancing and twirling and bumping into people. 

 

Everyone started to calm down when the food dinged, and everytime someone tried to steal a piece of the lasagna, Stiles spoon whipped them. 

  
  
  


The pack were half asleep, everyone was packed on the couches in the living room, except for Stiles. He was on the porch, watering his plants. They were huge, taking up the whole side of the humongous house. Aconite mixed with spearmint, sage mixed with chives. He talked to them, petting them, watering them. They responded to his touch, reaching for his fingers as he brushed their leaves. “I think i’m being a good Alpha, at least I hope so. Everyone seems so happy, but they’re leaving soon. I know the have college courses, but sometimes it physically hurts when they’re far away. But you, my dear rose, will never leave me.” Stiles petted the bloody red petals, the flowers blooming in his hand. 

 

“Satomi contacted me recently. Scott’s getting worse, and if someone doesn’t do something, he’ll go feral. I’m going to have to go there, probably alone, since he’d attack everyone. I don’t know how to help him.” Stiles sighed, and the sage tried to comfort him, wrapping it’s stem around his arm. “Aw, thanks girl.” Stiles said to the plant, it preening under is praise. 

 

Stiles detangled himself from the plant, walking back into the house to wash his hands. Everyone was asleep, not in flinching at the loud sound of the water. Stiles managed to walk around their bodies, barely managing to not trip over the bodies. He settled between Peter and Boyd, both men angling their bodies to Stiles out of pure instinct. Stiles carded his fingers through Peter’s hair, and pet Boyd’s shoulder as he dozed. He could hear small sniffles and snores from the pack, could hear their relaxed heartbeats, and drifted off to sleep. 

 

Stiles woke up an hour later to an elevated heart rate, looking around the room for it’s owner. Stiles slowly cataloged each ‘wolf until he got to Isaac, who was silently crying into Derek’s sleeping form. Stiles walked over, making noise to let Isaac know he was approaching. 

 

Almost as soon as Stiles sat down next to the pup, Isaac flopped down on his lap, crying into his stomach. Stiles picked up the pup easily, carrying him to his and Peter’s room. He laid him down on the bed, wrapping his body around the curled up boy. 

 

“Wanna talk about it?” Stiles whispered in the pup’s hair, petting the golden locks. Isaac nodded and sniffled, grabbing onto Stiles tighter. “It was my dad. I was stuck in the freezer again.” Isaac’s voice shook, weak and frail that hung in the air. 

 

“This might not help, but he’s dead. And if someone tries to hurt you, you have four wonderful beta’s who would burn the world down if someone even scratched you.” Stiles spoke with conviction, holding his beta closer. 

 

Isaac nodded but Stiles could tell he didn’t believe him. Stiles wrapped his arm around the pup, holding him until they both fell asleep. 

  
  


Stiles woke up to a heavy weight on his body that just weighed more. Stiles cracked on eye open, seeing Erica’s hair and Boyd’s bald head. He looked to the left, seeing Peter, and to the right, seeing Derek. 

 

Stiles felt his magic bubbling with happiness, and contently closed his eyes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Frank Sinatra is a god and if you say otherwise we'll have to fight.


End file.
